Fire Emblem: Prelude to Freedom
by danoh1989
Summary: When a tyrannical country overthrows its two weaker neighbors, it's up to a rebel faction, along with a rogue prospect, to restore the peace.
1. Prologue, Descent into Tyranny

Disclaimer: I don't own fire Emblem, blah blah blah.

Prologue: Descent into Tyranny

"Humph." A somber zephyr blew throughout the house; the windows and the doors of the classical Japanese abode had been thrown open to let the breeze in. The origin of the sound so soft that the breeze silenced it was lying down in the middle of the room. The boy, mayhap sixteen at the most, stared straight up at the ceiling as if something amazing was going to happen. His skin, matching the white walls, was almost deathly pale, as if he was perpetually hanging on the brink. He sniffled a bit, and stood up. The wind played a bit with his slate gray hair, his green eyes flickered towards the wall.

Mounted upon that very wall were a weapon, a sword, and a family heirloom. He walked over to it silently, almost reverently, and removed it from its notch on the wall. Shifting it from hand to hand, he swung at the air in front of him in a mockery of swordplay, before the first sign of any sort of emotion crossed his pallid visage. Looking towards the door affixed to the wall that pointed in the compass direction of southeast, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I know you're there. Three of you. By the looks of it, I don't know who you are. You'd better have a good reason to be here, lest I... dispose of you." His voice came out in a cold emulation of mirth, although one could tell that there was no happiness in him. His eyes were cold to anyone who looked into them; they would stay that way as long as he kept his emotions locked up in that tight little box, as long as he was he.

Exactly as he said, three people stepped through that same southwest door. They looked confident, that false look one gets when he had just gotten his tactical advantage taken away and had to put on a brave face. Perhaps it boosted their egos? More than likely, it was just because they were scared. "State your business."

The largest man slung his axe over his shoulder in an obvious attempt to intimidate the protagonist. Needless to say, it didn't work. "We're here for that bounty that's on your head."

That smile, that cold smile, grew in volume. "Well, now. It seems that I'm popular among the people these days." He took a step forward, and they held their ground. At least they could pretend to be unafraid properly. Then again, if they couldn't, they probably wouldn't even be here in the first place. His house wasn't situated in a very people-friendly zone.

The girl of the pack pointed her sword at the protagonist, whilst the other man nocked an arrow into his bow and aimed. "Now, now..." The protagonist muttered. "We don't want to get too hasty. I don't want to HURT anyone..." The way his eyes glinted when he said the word hurt could only be described as feral. His mouth had formed itself into a straight line, as he made eye contact with the axe wielder. The axe wielder glared back, which gave the impression that he was a very, very foolhardy man. "We now sentence the man known as Zenith to death!"

The axe wielder charged forth, and the bowman let loose an arrow at the same exact time. The lumbering frame of the axe-man didn't distract Zenith at all, as he gracefully moved to the side and let the arrow sing harmlessly past. The sword, which had only been lightly held with one had, now had two hands wrapped around its hilt. Zenith pivoted, and prepared to make a strike on the axe-man...

He diverted his sword's attention to the swordswoman, who had used a considerably quick pace to get behind him. The two blades clashed, locked together in a furious standstill, which neither could break. With the axe man's weapon ready to slam into his skull at any moment, and another arrow heading his way, Zenith had to commend them. They were at least competent. However, this fight would end there.

He ducked down and to the right, releasing all the pressure he was applying to the swordswoman's sword. Without anything to push up against, the swordswoman pitched forwards due to her center of gravity. She stumbled right into the path of the oncoming axe, and the arrow whizzed by right in front of her and above Zenith's head, lodging itself into the wall. A sick thwack was all it took for one of the teammates to accidentally kill their own. The surprise of both the axe-man and the bowman lent Zenith a few valuable seconds.

Reaching the inattentive bowman, Zenith raised his sword high above his head, slashing downwards. The results were none too pretty, as the bowman was effectively cleaved in half, the lightly armored man would probably ever be able to figure out what hit him.

Zenith sighed. "It's going to take a while to clean this mess up." The indifferent words were enough to send the axe-man into a berserker rage. He raised his axe high in the air, running as fast as he could towards the more petite man. It didn't take very long to reach him; the battle hadn't taken place in a very large room. However, Zenith had more than enough time to react, as his sword, poking straight out, was a spike on which the axe man impaled himself.

The loose sleeves of his long white shirt were now stained with the blood of his opponent. He looked at the already drying crimson fluid, and sighed. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the wayside, examining the room. "Yes. A long time indeed..."

-

The year was 1258. Only fifty years prior, the continent of Gandral had been in a total state of disarray. The three major countries that inhabited the continent were locked into a war of attrition. The giant state, Sohma, named for the royal family who lived there, had thought to take the two smaller countries of Euclid and Pythagorea, which were each located on opposite sides of the larger country. Due to the natural pincer attack, the countries were successful in driving Sohma's army back towards the center of their own country.

In an unprecedented move, the throne of one of the countries, Euclid, had been usurped from its rightful owner. It wasn't long after the coup d'etat that the smaller country surrendered to the bigger one. Euclid immediately pulled back their troops from the backside of the Sohma army. Without having to worry about the extra pressure of a large force behind them, Sohma could focus its entire wrath upon the inferior country of Pythagorea.

They gave ground stubbornly; the war had lasted for three long years after Euclid had pulled out. However, in the end of the long and bloody war, Sohma had emerged victorious over the country of Pythagorea. The ruler of Sohma ordered a public execution of the king and queen of Pythagorea, and placed one of his own vassals as the ruler of the country.

In the years that had past, a group of rebels formed under the name 'Freedom Lights'. The leader, shrouded in a veil of mystery, is said to be a god of combat, and not very easy to deal with. However, members of the group are scattered to the wind, said to be fighting against the tyrannical rule that they despise so much. The government ruled all the people with an iron fist, not slacking it to make living conditions passable for them.

Criminal activity ran rampant in the country of Pythagorean, and that's where all the criminals usually hung out. However, there were a few exceptions, such as the one that had happened only a year before. It seems that a young man who had been walking down a street in Sohma had been pushed on purpose by an upper-class and his, for lack of a better word, posse. However, they were quickly silence by the man's persuasive skills with the sword, leaving their words all over the payment... Along with their mangled bodies.

Since that incident, the Sohma country had put a bounty on the one known simply as 'Zenith's' head, while the rebel group seeked him out for help against the country who made the people lives miserable. Now was the time for them to act. If they could secure another great talent, a serious effort at taking on the Sohma country's military would be more than a dream.

Will Zenith help lead the continent down the path towards prosperity, or will he lead it to ruin?

END PROLOGUE


	2. Chapter 1, Flashing Crimson

I gota review! Gasp!

Lao Who Mai--- Yeah, well, I was never very good at thinking up names. Thanks for the review, though. I appreciate it. D

Once again, I don't own the Fire Emblem name, and any similarities between this story and the Fire Emblem layout are there for a reason.

Chapter 1; Flashing Crimson.

It is said that if you look towards the eastern skies come sundown, you can see the ocean from anywhere on the continent. The waves of the ocean, when seen, seem to forecast future events with amazing accuracy. Therefore, when one sees calm waters, nothing of interest would happen. However, when there are turbulent waves, like there are today, they know... Something or someone is going to cause turbulence.

Perhaps this is why the Sohma royal family has ordered one of its eight finest generals to hunt down the fugitive, Zenith. It seemed that the bounty they had placed on his head would not be enough, as they received news of group after group being slaughtered at the hands of the young outlaw. At the same time, three more of the generals were sent out to find and eliminate the rebel group.

The woman that was sent after Zenith was reputed to be a fearsome lance wielder. Her legendary speed, they said, would suit the sword much better, although they could not argue over her fearsome abilities with the lance. Many of the empire's enemies had been destroyed by her fearsome lance. Would Zenith fall to the same fate?

-

It cannot be argued that the young man's impeccable job at cleaning the room. All traces of the crimson effluence of man could no longer be detected; the abode was back to its blindingly boring white-washed state. Once again, Zenith had been amusing himself, passing the long hours by doing what he usually did, stare out the window and watching the nature pass by. Birds shuffled randomly about, all sorts of different colours streaked through the sky. Invisible insects buzzed, invisible animals howled. The dense forests hid all.

Except for sounds, and the oncoming of foreign beings. As such, he knew exactly what was coming on the moment he heard the shuffling of thousands of wings, simultaneously fleeing the scene from which they had once played. The forests grew silent, save for the shuffling of those wings and little pawed feet. He looked towards his room, his meticulously cleaned room, and decided that no one was worthy enough for him to soil it again. He would meet the threat in the woods.

Hastily grabbing his sheathed sword from the wall upon which it stood, he made his way out the hastily thrown open door. Leaving the said door wide open to the environs, he was confident that no filthy animals would intrude on his domain. It hadn't happened yet, even when he was out. And it wouldn't happen. Ever.

Hastily making his way through the underbrush and labyrinth-like tree trunks, somehow managing to not scrape his painfully bare feet, he made his way towards the distinct sounds of footfalls, easy to pick out amidst this unnatural quietness. Nearing the footfalls at an incredible pace, he would stop as soon as he was in seeing range.

"Who are you, to intrude upon my domain?" The young man sternly demanded, eyeing the opposing squad of perhaps twenty people. They seemed to be a well-rounded group, two nature mages and three bowmen lagging slightly behind, and an assortment of melee weapons in the front. Each had the emblem of the Sohma Empire, what looks to be a wolf fending off the moon, grafted to their foreheads.

A female stepped forwards. She, among regular male standards, would be a very pretty woman. The only armor on her seemed to be that crimson-red chest plate that she wore. She covered her symbol with a cloth that had the same sort of color to it, denoting a higher niche in the army's rankings. The sneer she wore on her face symbolized her absolute confidence, perhaps she hadn't lost all that much in the past. Zenith could only speculate, and he could only bring her down to earth.

"Zenith, by the royal decree of the Sohma family, I sentence you to death!" The soldiers all stood idly in the background; it seemed that they would not interfere in the battle between the two. The bloodlust they must have given off would paralyze most normal men...

"This sounds awfully familiar," Zenith jibed, wiping that smirk right off of the opposing woman's face, it screwed into a look of rage. "Wasn't it your pathetic royal family that placed the bounty on my head? How wasteful, when they could have sent someone of your... I would say caliber, but you're weak too. Well, let's get this over with." He heaved a sigh and unsheathed his sword, throwing it in front of his own frame and wincing stepping to the side.

What most of the soldiers there wouldn't be able to discern was that right when Zenith stopped talking, the woman had thrown herself forwards and thrust her lance at incredibly high speeds. Zenith slowed the blow with his sword, stepping to the side to avoid the after thrust. His sword slid along the shaft of the opposing woman's ornately decorated spear, and he heard her hiss, "You will pay for making a mockery of the royal family like that." She had no more time to speak, for she had to deal with the sword that was rapidly closing in on her fingers.

She let go of her lance, the only thing she could do in the situation. Taking advantage of the moment of weakness, Zenith released a gracefully accurate swing towards her neck, seeking to end the fight instantaneously. However, that was far from what happened, as a sudden direction change from the woman ended in her only taking a light scratch on the cheek. Zenith was mildly amused, for it had been quite some time since a person had avoided his own killing strike. He would have to remedy that soon.

Somehow, she had grabbed the lance from the ground, something that confused Zenith. She was nowhere near her weapon, yet somehow she stood at the ready with it in her head. He would not be distracted, however, which was probably a tactic that the opposing woman used a lot. Moving at those blazingly fast speeds, she appeared beside Zenith, thrusting her lance from almost point blank, her fingers were almost on top of the blade. Zenith recognized that he would not be able to block this blow; he hadn't been prepared for a short ranged attack from one who wielded a lance.

However, that didn't automatically spell out victory for the opposing lance woman, who obviously thought she had attained it. Zenith's sword lashed out, striking his opposition's fingers as he felt the searing pain brought about by being impaled in the side. Blood fell from the wounds, the crimson fluids mingled as they both gasped in pain. Two thuds emanated from the ground where her pointer and middle fingers, effectively cleaved off at the base knuckle, had landed. In the other woman's shock, Zenith had time to pull the pointy weapon from his side and delivered a kick to send her flying off to the side. She slammed painfully into a tree; she probably lost most of her breath in the single movement.

He raised his sword in order to go and strike the finishing blow while the other woman was in her state of disbelief. She thought she was untouchable, but here she was missing her fingers! If the other soldiers hadn't been there, she would have been missing her life, too. They all charged forward menacingly, two broke off from the pack to haul the woman that he had won a quasi-victory over. He raised his sword, still confident that he could and would defeat the pack of soldiers, when...

Three arrows shot from the cover of the nearby trees, impaling themselves into the soldiers' unfortunately unarmored necks. They each fell dead. Before anyone on the soldiers' squad could react, three more arrows had lodged themselves into three more of their meaty throats, cutting their numbers from eighteen to twelve in an instant. Zenith took advantage of this confusion. In spite of his slowed speed due to the injury, he dispatched three more of the soldiers before they turned their attention back to him.

Three people, each wielding swords, emerged from the same direction the arrows came from, and easily killed the soldiers who had their backs facing them. Three more arrows emerged, the confusion had swept the entire squad, three more were dead, there were only three left. And, they too were soon gone, cleaved by Zenith's blade. And then, he turned towards his rescuers.

"I could have handled it myself." He glared at the three sword users. "Who are you?" That was the closest to the thanks they were going to get, and they seemed to realize it.

"All will be explained in due time if you come with us." One of the sword wielders said. He stepped forwards, eying the youth cautiously. "But, first, we need to treat that wound."

"I refuse. I can handle my..." Captured in the conversation and woozy due to the loss of blood, he didn't notice the person sneaking up behind him. The man behind him slammed the hilt of his sword onto the top of his head with enough pressure to shut his system down and knock him out. He then picked out the body of the unconscious pale youth and carried it away, along with the platoon of people that had helped the youth not too long ago.


	3. Chapter 2, Recluse

Lao Who Mai- He was never really in hiding, he just lived kinda out of the way. Thanks for reviewing, it's nice to know that someone's reading my stuff. Anyhow, on with the show!

Chapter 2; Recluse

It is said that, the day after, the Crimson Flash's rage could be heard all throughout the continent. The skies grew dark and stormy, Thunder crashed ominously and Lightning zinged from the heavens in a fearsome display of power. Upon this storm, this thunder and lightning, she reputedly swore revenge against the one who did her, and the empire, an injustice. She would see to it that this Zenith character was put to rest.

As soon as she found him. She assumed, with that sort of wound from her own spear, that he wouldn't be able to get past her men. In case he did, he wouldn't have been able to get too far. However, when she checked the scene, she found several mangled bodies, none of which were the target. She immediately recognized outside interference, how could you not? Arrows were poking out from the neck region of her soldiers.

'Freedom Lights' left them in there, to taunt the empire. She knew that they had gotten a hold of them, and she also knew that it was up to her to take care of this threat, before it got out of hand...

-

Zenith woke quickly and easily, bolting straight up on the uncomfortably hard mat. He examined the room, feeling as good as normal. Which struck him as odd, because he had the faint recollection of being stabbed in the side--- but there was no wound. He shrugged it off, he wouldn't have been injured in a fig--- Where was he? His gaze darted from nook to nook, from corner to corner, he needed to find out where he was. His bearings were off, he noted the room was pretty much filled to capacity, three men and two women were all sitting around on stools of wood.

"So, kid, you're up alrea..." The man who piped up, the same man he was talking to before, WOULD have had a sword pressed against his throat. However, these people had enough foresight to remove the sword from his range while he was sleeping. So, Zenith did the next best thing. On his feet and up in the other man's face in a flash, it was most humorous to see his face shift from carelessness to fright. Zenith's pointer and middle fingers, which he noted with quite a bit of sardonic humor that someone was lacking, were pressed ominously up against the speaking man's Adam's Apple, the imposing nails ready to puncture flesh on command. Four other weapons trained on Zenith's decidedly smaller frame.

"Where am I?" Zenith demanded, ignoring the other weapons and focusing all of his attention upon the man that he was threatening. The other man grabbed his wrist, which was quite the mistake. Weaving his way between the weapons that were pointing in his direction, he brought the man's arm behind his back. He knew he would be overpowered if the other man was given a chance, so... He kept pulling, even after the point that would hurt. A sickening cracked filled the room, followed by a cry of pain. The man who's arm had just snapped was laying on the ground, one of the women went to tend to his wounds.

"I won't say this again. Where. Am. I?" Looking more like a cornered wolf than anything, he was ready to injure the rest of the people in this room if need be.

"Slow down there, tiger." This one was older, much older. He carefully took a step forward, Zenith didn't sense anything hostile in his intent, yet. "You ever heard of the rebel group, 'Freedom Lights'? Well, this is their main headquarters, as it were." He stepped forward again, and if he took another step, he'd find himself tangled up in a disconfigured heap worse than the other man's arm. He sensed it, and stopped walking forward. "You've got some fearsome speed on you, lad."

"I have a name. Use it." Came the curt reply.

"Okay, okay. Just stay calm." Beads of sweat already started forming upon his brow. Perhaps in his prime he'd be able to keep up with this kid, but as it stood now, he'd never be able to even get a move in. And it scared him. "Zenith. We've heard of your abilities, and your qualms with the empire, so we ask you. Join us."

Zenith didn't even take the time to think. "I have nothing against the empire. I refuse to join a bunch of hopeless ingrates such as yourselves."

The old man, he gulped. Try to stay calm, try to stay calm. People like this can sense fear. Gather your courage, plunge forward. "I don't think you realize your position, young man. You're in the main headquarters of 'Freedom Lights'. Hundreds of people, waiting to bear down on you if you refuse."

"Hmph. Hundreds of ingrates. If they're anything like you, I won't even need my weapon." If the kid wasn't so damn scary, his demeanor would drive the old man up the wall. However, he knew that he wasn't going to get through to the kid. He sighed, wiped the sweat of his brow, and looked straight into Zenith's eyes. He saw nothing, no compassion, no remorse. Nothing for all that he's done. Even the man, who was groaning in pain not too far because of an action this... sixteen-year-old kid did WITHOUT HESITATION, didn't bring any sort of feeling to his face.

And the old man laughed, but he felt like crying. "You youngsters, I can't keep up with you anymore." He turned on his heel, scooped up the man with the broken arm, and left. The three remaining in the room eyed Zenith warily, but Zenith made no moves to escape. It was almost as if he didn't mind that he was a quasi-prisoner. He laid on the ground, and stared at the ceiling vacantly, leaving the other three baffled.

Soon enough, the old man returned, and whispered something to the other three. They scurried away, leaving Zenith alone with the geezer. For the longest time, neither of them spoke, Zenith didn't even recognize the old man's presence. He just stared... Time passed by quickly, and the old man fell asleep, almost as if he was waiting for Zenith to say something... So...

"What do you want, fool?" The old man snapped awake, confused. How did this boy know he wanted something. "Your nervous energy is practically choking me. What do you want?" The old man was awestruck. He did his best to mask this feeling, but... He might as well have spit it out.

"Well, the boss wants to see you." A wicked smile lit up Zenith's features, a chance meeting with the leader of this band of meager pups. "But, uh.. I can't really force you to go anywhere, seeing as how you're a guest and all..." The fact of the matter was, there were probably only two or three people in this structure who COULD force him to go somewhere without having to be in a pack of fifty.

"I accept." With that, the old man stood up, and Zenith did likewise, and they were off, to wherever the old man would lead him to. Walking up to a grandoise door, the old man threw it open and stepped inside. Zenith followed promptly, striding up to the chair which was currently facing a large desk, no towards the two who had just entered. A smile erupted on Zenith's face. "How demeaning. Your leader is a WOMAN?"

The older man stuttered, he had no idea how Zenith knew that. He thought the leader was still in her chair. However, that was not the case, as when he looked back at his charge, he saw the boy with a sword between his hands, struggling to keep it aloft as the woman bore all kinds of pressure down on him. It had been a while since he had felt overpowered this way, so he ducked to the side and let her stroke fall through. The place where the wound was in his side twinged, it distracted him as blood once again stained his clothes.

"When did you injure me, woman?" He had been virtually upstaged by two women today, and he was infuriated. His gaze would kill if given the opportunity, if he had his weapon the woman in front of him would not be long for this world. However, he was at a disadvantage, and for the first time, he doubted that he'd be able to get her sword away from her. He'd need to find another means of attack...

But she sheathed her sword, looking at him. "So. This is all that this 'Zenith' I've heard so much about has to offer? Get out of my sight." She snarled, glaring at him. Her shoulder length silver hair whipped about as she threw her head in his direction. The slim sword, resting on her brown belt, matched the rest of her very-common looking clothes.

"I'll be back." Zenith smirked, and strode through the doors. Ignoring all the other rebels, he glided through the halls indignantly.

"Don't let him leave the complex." She ordered the old man, and with a nod, he left. It was only then she allowed herself a shudder. If he had had a weapon, would she have been able to inflict the wound on him like that? It was only a scratch, at the very most, but she did at least draw some blood. He was too valuable to lose to the empire, yet too powerful to kill. How would they be able to convince the young man to join their side...?


	4. Chapter 3, Toppling the Fortress

This chapter was almost twice as long as my other chapters. >.>; That's what I get for putting it off so long, I guess.

Once again, I only got one review, and it was from the same person. At least someone's reading my stuff. / Thanks for the review.

I was really stuck on this chapter... I dunno why, I just couldn't think of anything.

Chapter 3; Toppling the Fortress

Upon hearing of the Crimson Flash's injuries, it was rumored that the heir to the Sohma name smiled wickedly, almost as if everything was going according to his plan. Perhaps a piece of his puzzle had just fallen into place. His knight had backed the opponent's king into a wall, and the opposition would have to plan very carefully to escape from the binds that they had placed upon themselves. He was one of the many throughout the Sohma republic that knew. He knew of the Crimson Flash's tenacity, of her unadulterated rage. She would not rest until her job was done.

And, almost as if right on cue, at daybreak of the next morn, a messenger bearing a message rode into the castle situated at the very center of the continent. The message was very brief, a message of the progress of the Crimson Flash. It seemed as though, although she had failed in her task, she had stumbled on something much greater. Tracing the steps of the foolhardy rebels that had hastily ran off with the young fugitive, she followed them straight into the bird's nest, the place they had so long been searching for. As it so turned out, they were almost right under their noses.

Almost immediately, he gave the order to dispatch another one of Sohma's finest, the general who was christened simply as 'Fortress', along with a platoon of two-hundred units to quell the uprising which had been plaguing them for years. He ordered them to move with all due speed, and if all went well, they would rendezvous with the Crimson Flash by nightfall, and subsequently take them in the shroud of night. Could this spell the end of the rebellion and could it secure the safety of the rule of the Sohma family for generations to come?

-

It was not much later from the time of the confrontation when Zenith had to marvel at the size and complexity of the compound. It was much larger than he had anticipated, he had figured that the rebels had taken to shoddy houses made of materials easily affected by the environment. He hadn't imagined that a group that had made an enemy of the whole country could provide the funds, as well as the manpower, to build such a complex. And underground, also. How did they managed to build this structure without alerting the Sohma house? It was most appalling.

Not only that, but they had their armories hidden away. Zenith marveled at how well organized they were, although he was a bit curious as to how they would react if someone was to attack them. Were they so conceited that they believed they would never get found? Or were the armories closer than he believed? Either way, he failed to procure any weapon, not even his own. It didn't seem as though carrying weapons around the base was common practice. The false sense of security that they had felt seemed worthless to Zenith. He hated not having his weapon by his side, or in sight. Especially in a place such as this, where he would be able to use it to full effect.

He would just have to persevere. It didn't seem as though anyone around was going to exert any force on him. In fact, the only resistance he had met was the group of people stationed at the entrance, who were apparently keeping everyone from entering and leaving. Well, that wasn't entirely true. They were using a sequence of abhorrently difficult passwords to identify all personnel. Whether they were entering or leaving, these passwords were given with monotonous replays from their memories. Zenith quickly abandoned the entrance, not wanting to leave until he had exacted his revenge on that woman.

The trouble he went through to procure a weapon went in vain, however. A blatantly annoying alarm buzzed throughout the building, it almost sounded as if jillions of bees had escaped from a hive and went on a rampage throughout the halls. The alarm meant something to the inhabitants of the complex, apparently, as when they heard it... Well, it could only be described as a mass panic. Weapons were procured from unobvious grooves in the wall that opened up to armories, weapons were procured from the floor, a single button press spewed a seemingly random weapon that fit into the wielder's hands perfectly, whether a sword, bow, axe, or spear. Magic users already had their books at the ready, people rushed out into the main foyer to await further orders.

Not one to be caught off-guard, even during a sudden happening such as this one, Zenith's face remained as stoic as ever, even though he still lacked a weapon. Going with the flow, he meandered out into the main foyer along with the rest of them, glaring as he saw that damned woman giving her men a pep talk. His mind cried out for her death, his body wanted to rush up there and exact his revenge. He would gain it, and then he would finally be able to leave from his prison, the prison placed about his pride. Feeling the intense glare burning an imaginary hole in the middle of her forehead, she diverted her gaze towards the source. A smug smirk adorned her features.

"Well, well, it seems as though our guest has joined us in this little drill." Every warrior there, perhaps about ten score of people, turned their heads to see who she was referring to. They all caught sight of the youth, and immediately erupted into murmers of their expectations being shattered and the fellow known as Zenith's unimpressive stature. Zenith took it all in, he didn't care about the opinions of easily squashed bugs. She turned her attention back towards the mass of warriors as a whole. "Excluding our guest, everyone here did a satisfactory job of reporting here hastily. These random drills help everyone be prepared in case of---"

"ATTACK!" The ominous voice echoed throughout the halls, a voice that no one, save a few, recognized. Zenith immediately related the voice to an owner, if was the same woman he had been fighting before. The Crimson Flash had followed them to the hideout, and he reveled at the chance to finally finish their fight, which had been so rudely interupted by a squad of soldiers. All kinds of chaos erupted in the large foyer.

The charging soldiers of the Sohma republic was faced with a legion far greater than they had anticipated. The two forces were about evenly matched in size, although the more exemplary fighters obviously belonged to the rebellion. The clashing and clanging of combat started the din, screams of frustration and pain complimented it. Men would finish off their opponents, only to be stabbed in the back by another. Such was the nature of a large battle. Zenith himself dodged and weaved through the fray, picking up a discarded Killer Edge from the ground, ducking under a thrown tomahawk simultaneously, and swiftly cleaving the said axeman in two with the weapon.

Examining the weapon more closely, it was almost in perfectly mint condition, save the blood that had just been spilled all over the blade. The hectic atmosphere rose, a scream of many went up in unison as Zenith joined the chaos. Cutting his way through all the Sohma soldiers that had targeted him, as he was one of their main objective, like butter, he himself easily dispatched many of the soldiers and reached the front of the room, where the leader of this group and the Crimson Flash were dueling. So far, it seemed to be at quite the standstill, the leader's sword was currently pushing away a thrusting spear, and then the leader's foot lashed out. Zenith never got the chance to note if the foot connected, he sensed something odd coming from his left, and just in time, as another axe screamed where his head just was.

Turning his attention towards the origin of the axe, a mound of iron barred his passage back into the culminating din. A voice erupted from beneath the large helmet, distilled by the large facemask that the helmet provided. "YOU'RE Zenith?" It sounded almost like a bark of amusement. "Why, you're nothing but a boy!" The large axe in the person's right hand stood at the ready. However, it seemed the large mass soon reconsidered. "Forgive me. Perhaps I shouldn't take my opponents too lightly. After all, you did fight the Crimson Flash and you survived. Perhaps you have some skill to your name." Lumbering ever closer to Zenith, he saw that the thing was at least two heads taller than he was. "However, I'm afraid that this is where your life ends."

Zenith's other hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade he was still getting used to, he would have to act quickly in order to gain the upper hand. He wouldn't be able to block any strikes from that axe with his sword, it would shatter the flimsier weapon in a heartbeat. Therefore, he would have to rely on his foot speed to gain the advantage. After all, the Fortress was only wielding an axe. As these thoughts blazed through his mind, his outer appearance hadn't changed a bit. A smirk lit up his features, he stood his ground. "You mongrels from the empire have failed to kill me before. What makes you any different?"

"Well, we shall see, won't we?" With those mocking words from under the faceplate, the axe that the large mass was carrying chopped out in a horizontal swing. The force of the axe itself was incredible, it would probably be able to sever a large tree trunk from the ground with just one swing alone. Zenith couldn't go down, the only option he had was to jump. It was harder than usual to tell the next move of the opponent, because he couldn't read the opponent's facial expression. The opponent's other arm clinked, as Zenith looked over, he saw a large sword speeding towards him, threatening to cut off his head. He was still in the air, he had just reached the apex of his jump and was hovering for that split second. It seemed as though the Fortress thought it had claimed victory, but Zenith had other plans. Throwing himself forwards with all the momentum he could muster, the sword glided over him, creating a gust of wind that sped his descent towards the ground.

He had not expected the General to start wielding two weapons at the same time, different weapons nonetheless! However, he had no time to contemplate his situation, both weapons were crashing down at the point of the ground he was laying on, he swiftly rolled to the side as the weapons bit into the ground where he once laid. The impact caused a quake throughout the battlefield, many people had become distracted from their own fights to see what had happened. Those same people, both rebels and from the empire, were cut down swiftly by those with more focus.

Quickly finding his feet, he finally found an opening for him to attack. A thrust from his sword, applied enough pressure and momentum, would most likely pierce through the opponent's armor at a weak point. He chose a groove that lay on the shoulder, connected the body armor to the arm guards. Thrusting forwards with a breakneck speed, the sword, although finding resistance at first, eventually plunged into the opponent's shoulder. Although it didn't have any of the original speed that it had once possessed, it still got the job done. The Fortress's axe arm had been disabled.

Not deterred in the least, the person unleashed another swing with the sword. The Fortress bit through the pain, swinging the sword as if nothing had happened. The large axe was currently laying on the ground, the Fortress had dropped it when it was realized that the arm wouldn't be able to move anymore. The sword moved diagonally, from the bottom left to the top right. Zenith knew, without the one arm, that the fortress wouldn't be able to keep balanced as well as usual, so when Zenith ducked to the right to avoid the blow, his foot lashed out. It collided with the armored leg rather painfully, the person inside the armor just laughed. "You think you can topple the Fortress with that pathetic effort?"

"So, you're the Fortress, are you?" Zenith smirked, pulling hard on his leg to catch another weak point of the armor, the heel. "Well, it seems as though you have an Achilles Heel." The swift pain of the blow caused the Fortress to shift slightly, and then the momentum built quickly due to the heavy armor. The Fortress found out that the air wasn't a cushion to any fall, and the Fortress toppled over, falling to the ground in an unsightly heap. The battle was virtually over, Zenith knew that with all the armor his opponent had been wearing, the fortress would not be on its feet any time soon. It was quite the weakness, but that was what you deserved for wearing armor that heavy. "Lie there for me, dog."

Zenith examined the battlefield. The rebels had obviously won, although the Crimson Flash was nowhere to be found. The leader of the rebellion had collapsed, she had earned pinpoint stab wounds in several places, she was obviously in a good amount of pain. Turning his attention back towards his opponent, the Fortress had taken off her helmet. "Tell me. Are all the Empire's Generals women?" The Fortress, lying on the ground, didn't give an answer. "You're not worth my time." He strode off towards the leader of the rebellion. The Fortress spit in his tracks, although the glob never made it to him. If it had, she'd probably be short one life. The fortress then found herself surrounded by various rebellion members, they managed to get her sword away from her and keep her on the ground as a hostage.

"What a pathetic sight." Zenith sneered at the rebel leader. She looked up at him, marvelling about the fact that he was not injured in the slightest. "Tell me, what does it feel like to lose to a cripple?"

Her face twisted with rage, it was the fact that she had noticed and faltered over the missing fingers that she had earned one of her wounds today. "I did not lose. I inflicted worse wounds on her. She fled before I could finish the battle."

"That just sounds like your stroking your pride." He turned towards the bulk of the rebels, of the two hundred people that had gathered, only about fifty of them had been killed by the Empire's soldiers. "However..." She was getting ready to cut his head off, her sword had been clutched so hard in her hands her knuckles were turning white. "Now, now. No need to kill one of your little group's members." It was an admission of the fact that he was willing to join the rebellion. Something had clicked to him during the battle today, although he would never tell anyone what it was. Maybe until the right time, anyways. "I'd expect that more of the Empire's soldiers will be after us soon." Zenith's airy remark snapped the leader out of her surprise. "Call in your healers to heal the injured, and of course, yourself," His tone when he said yourself could only be described as mocking. "We should vacate as soon as possible."


	5. Chapter 4, Unanswered Questions

Chapter Four; Unanswered questions

Within the hour, the rebellion was gone. In fact, the only thing that had been left behind was a large suit of armor that had once belonged to the Fortress along with the dead bodies of the battle that had taken place beforehand. The Crimson Flash once again stood over a battlefield where she had not been victorious, and her stoked anger flared to the point where it could not be doused. Thursting her weapon at the ground in a temper tantrum which could be credited to a two-year-old child, the substance the ground was made of parted to let the spear through. She glared about the room, looking for any clue as to how the rebellion had escaped so hastily in spite of the wounded.

It was obvious from the dead silence, of course, that the rebels had indeed all left the structure with the Fortress in tow, leaving behind only the dead carcasses from the previous battle and one other landmark. She heard a rumor from one of the nearby townsfolk that the Fortress had betrayed the Empire's cause and had joined the rebels. At the time, she deigned the opinion and immediately executed the townsperson, but now she believed that the Fortress had indeed betrayed the empire. The Fortress was still alive, said the rumor mill, so the suit of armor that she had left behind indeed spelled the betrayal of the royal family. In her warped view of reality, this was reason enough.

The Empire had indeed suffered two losses that night: The battle and one of their finest generals. Her mission had been a complete failure. She looked back on her fight with the one leading the rebellion, and reflected on how many of the Empire's soldiers were slain and how many of the rebellion's own soldiers still roamed alive. If the fight that she was having with the leader had not subsided, then she knew she stood a great chance of losing. With members like the blasted leader of the rebellion (of whom they now knew a face but could not associate any sort of name to it), the criminal known as Zenith, and a prominent member of the Empire's finest eight soldiers, 'Freedom Lights' was no longer something that could be shunted to the wayside. The empire needed to nip this flower in the bud, and put an end to the rebellion.

---

"Well, you have two decisions." The voice of the leader moved silkily through the air. It was apparent that she was trying not to sound smug, but she was failing horribly. The bulk of the group was traveling in groups of five to ten people, small enough packs to move swiftly yet big enough to fend off a decent sized attacking group while they covered for any that had injuries too grave to heal even with the help of the divine magic. This particular group yielded five people. The leader of 'Freedom Lights', Zenith himself, the old man who had first introduced Zenith to the leader of the group, the man who had his arm broken by Zenith (At that moment, he was stealing wary glances in the aforementioned boy's direction), and the Fortress. The leader was currently addressing the Fortress, while the remaining four were silent. "You can join us here at the rebellion, or you can leave."

The Fortress glared into the eyes of the leader. They were walking, the only person without a weapon was the Fortress herself. Without all the armor on, she was still a very tall woman, standing around two heads more than Zenith. Her black hair, previously concealed, was longer than Zenith had expected, even though it only fell to the very top of her shoulder blades. The hair fell shaggily, and it looked as though the stringy locks had not had any proper care in the matter of years. Her eyes matched the eyes of the leader of 'Freedom Lights', that same shade of hazel which looked so unnatural when compared with the leader's silver hair. "What's the catch?" The Fortress spoke for the first time in hours.

"Oh." The smug look on the leader's face only grew in volume when the question was asked. "There is no catch. The fact of the matter is, however, that I was already SO sure you'd join us, that I already ordered some of my men to spread the word." The Fortress didn't seem to understand, which made a smile of obviously dubious intent flash over Zenith's face.

"You're a traitor." These three words hit the Fortress like a battering ram. She had finally realized the severity of the situation that she had been forced into. She glance around, noticing just then that she was actually free to leave, and that no one had been flanking her in order to keep her in the pack. She knew Zenith's words carried the ring of truth.

"No…" Her voice quivered, she stopped walking, along with all the others in the group. Zenith tapped his foot impatiently, but the leader's smug look was almost instantly wiped from her face. "No. His Majesty would never shun me like that. I'm one of his finest…"

"Traitors." Zenith finished her sentence in a way that she was not intending to. All the others in the group shuddered at his blatant cruelty. "Listen. If you go back to 'His Majesty' now, you will die." He sneered, and started to walk again.

"No." She stated." No. He wouldn't do that. He'll believe me! I'm one of his finest soldiers! He'll understand! I KNOW he'll understand!" More than anything else, it was a desperate plea for reassurance.

"Really? I was of the impression that the king despised people like you. Traitors." Zenith's snide remark hit her in the lowest place possible, and everyone gathered there recognized it. "If you go back to the empire, you'll surely die. If you stay with us, you will have a slightly lesser chance of being slain." The truth was being presented to her in quite the blunt fashion. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it here just as much as I." The statement reeked of irony. "Possibly even more."

The Fortress just glared at each of the in turn. A moment's worth of hesitating past before the woman turned from them and ran. She ran in no particular direction, although she was not as swift as any of the fighters gathered. None of them pursued the woman, however. They just kept walking, losing what could have been a valuable asset to the company.

Or so it seemed.

It was painfully obvious that the Fortress was still following the troupe. Perhaps she had recognized the truth in Zenith's blunt words? A more likely story was that she was following them, planning on slaying them in order to bring herself back into her liege's grace. However, the clumsy fashion in which she traversed the terrain was quite akin to a lighthouse beacon for a ship; at least to the youth known as Zenith.

When Zenith disengaged himself from the group, no one was surprised. However, the two other men visibly relaxed when he was out of view. "That kid gives me the chills…" The man with the broken arm sighed. The healers had done their best, but the wound could not be fully healed with their magic, so the rest of the healing process had to be carried out by his own body. His arm was well enough to swing a sword, but it was still too much of a liability. The leader had decided to travel with him to protect him.

Other older man tapped his chin. "Well… He makes me wonder…"

"What makes you wonder, Jodah?"

"Well, who do you think could have raised a monstrosity such as that?" The old man said. "Keeping along with that line of thinking, where DID he become so good with a blade? He's quite young, seventeen at best. He has fearsome skills, and will only get better as time progresses. When he reaches your age, Daniel…"

"I think we'd better not look towards the future in this case," Daniel, the injured one, interjected hastily. "We should instead look towards his past, for it is indeed an interesting subject. His skills, although fearsome, seem to have an unpolished edge about them. He reminds me of a purely reactionary creature." Unnecessarily, he emphasized the word creature. "I doubt he has any formal training with the sword. However, he does have extremely quick reflexes, maybe inherited from his parents. Of course, the fact that remains is that we will never know. When he became infamous, there really was no mention of family, and he always remained alone after then. Well, what do you think, boss?"

A long pause. "I think it doesn't matter. We're stuck with him because we need his skills to reinstate the war that has seemingly been lost." The way she worded this sentence sent chills up the spines of Daniel and Jodah. Her forceful personality, along with almost peerless swordplay, were both reasons as to why she was the leader of the group. Daniel and Jodah had both seen scenes almost exactly as this one, and they knew what she was going to say, even before she said it: "After what that man did to my mother…"

Jodah spoke up almost instantaneously. The older man cut her off from her previous train of thought in order to gat an answer to a question that had bothered him for quite a bit of time. "Every time you go down this path, you speak of your mother. Did the King Sohma do anything to your father?"

"No," Was the immediate, ambiguous, and highly suspicious reply.

---

"You're in no condition to fight or to flee with that injured shoulder of yours." A good deal of a distance back, Zenith was addressing the Fortress who had thought that she was alone prior to the sound of his voice. Of course, she was still traveling in the same direction as the rebel squad was. "We could have the wound healed, you know. Of course, your foolish pride could drive you to keep the wound. It would make my job easier would you try to attack me." The statement started off seemingly kind, but it unfailingly deteriorated into Zenith's true personality.

The Fortress was very tempted to not respond at you, but she knew that she had to. "Why did you come back here?" Blunt and to the point. Zenith didn't mind.

"You were following us. I came back here to make sure you're not going to do something you may… regret later." Zenith tapped his sword, but she remained face-forward so that their faces wouldn't meet. "Of course, since you couldn't best me with that armor, I doubt you could do it without any sort of protection, and with that wound." The jibe fell on deaf ears, she was above falling prey to those sorts of comments, unlike a certain other of the empire's generals.

"Who are you?" The question took Zenith by surprise. The Fortress had wheeled around and looked over the young boy with a critical eye. "Why are you fighting against the Empire?" The question that many had wondered had finally been brought into the open.

"You expect me to share my life's story? Hah! Surely you jest!" His mirthless laugh echoed through the surrounding woods. "I'd rather not. It's quite the boring story anyways, and it's not as if there was anything worth noting before I gained my… reputation." It was true. Before that day Zenith became a criminal, no one had ever even heard of him. In fact, the real reason he had become a criminal was because of his anonymity, along with the cruelness of the upper class. "And I fight against the empire because I enjoy… the art." The slight hesitation in his voice said that he was keeping his real reasons safely under lock and key.

The Fortress let out a shaky breath and weighed her options. Even if she somehow did manage to kill the key members of the resistance, there was always the chance that her liege would not accept her back. On the other hand, if she stayed with the rebellion, she would have this awesome fighter, who could best the speed of the Crimson Flash and could compete with the raw power of herself, protecting her back. Of course, she would have to earn the rebellion's trust, but they were, at the moment, less likely to kill her at this point. They did need all the help they could muster.

On the reverse side of the coin, she would have to betray the allegiances that she had formed up to this point. It would be painful to go up against her former comrades and friend, and more painful still to kill them. Perhaps, she could persuade some of them to the opposite side? Plus, although she would never admit it, she could not agree with the emperor's methods, along with his avaricious nature. She had finally come to a conclusion.

"Heal my shoulder and give me a weapon. I'll fight for this group." Neither Zenith's expression nor his opinion of the Fortress change. She had merely gone from an annoyance of an enemy to an annoyance of an ally. In the end, there was virtually no difference for him.

"Fine. Let's catch up to that woman. She'll know where a healer is. The Fortress acknowledged what Zenith said, and they briskly caught up to the group who had just wrapped up a conversation of their own. A few brief words later, and they were on their way towards the nearest town.


	6. Chapter 5, Tricksters

Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, it's been a while since I've written anything for this story. I'll chalk it up to one word: Oops. Anyhow, I figured I'd get a bunch of writing out of the way fairly quickly so I don't lose that creative drive thingie. Thanks for the review again, Lao Who Mai.

---

Chapter 5; Tricksters

It was not long after the became a rebellion member in both name and heart that they had been located. It seemed as though an anonymous informant had tipped off the palace of the whereabouts of the main leader of the rebellion, but did not give any information as to the location of the rest of the small army. Even with those developments, the information brought about another sweet victory for the palace. It seemed as though the fugitive Zenith had also been traveling with the leader. The order came from the palace to swiftly hunt them down.

However, there was indeed a problem. The Crimson Flash had been given a sort of side order from the King himself, so she wasn't able to answer His Majesty's current call. In fact, the only generals that could be summoned were the pair known as the Tricksters. The King had reservations about sending them, as they rarely took their jobs seriously, but he could not discount their prowess. He was hesitant about sending them after the group, but he had no choice in the end.

The plan was for the two to intercept the squad as they arrived in the town of Riviera. Trhere, they would try to overtake the high-ranking members of the rebellion one by one, and then hopefully cripple their forces into an unconditional surrender. Our heroes, along with the protagonist, entered the town, none the wiser of the devastating duo that awaited them…

---

"This is quite the village…" Zenith muttered under his breath, a statement in which every single word was a sincere one. It represented everything that he had enjoyed about his old abode. Livestock grazed in the grasses right next to the town square. The whole village, overall, was very quiet unless you counted the different noises that the wildlife and the domestic animals littered about the landscape. The village itself seemed to be perfectly peaceful, the only clutter being in the very center where many buildings had been slammed together to form some kind of meeting place.

One deep breath would yield the crisp smell of untainted air, colored with the scent of springtime dew. A small gust of wind played with the ankle-high grass strewn about the terrain, bending the grass to its will as it saw fit. The feeling of the wind as it played over the faces of the group was simply comforting. Soon enough, the air would be filled with the scents of food and the clatter of pots and pans as the families would prepare for dinner.

"Well, first we need to go and see if there's a healer in these parts. There must be some sort of cleric," The leader was the first to speak. Jodah nodded his agreements, and Daniel did nothing to affirm or deny the soundness of the plan. The Fortress looked mighty relieved that the wound on her shoulder would soon be nothing more that a distant memory. However…

"I'm not going with you." Zenith commented bluntly., which made Daniel quickly set his priorities straight. So, Zenith headed off in a different direction with the offer of meeting at the inn to stay the night. Zenith had no doubt in his mind that he'd ignore the offer, and they knew it too. He would rather spend his time in the great outdoors than with any of the group. He would meet them at an exit to the town when they were ready to leave in the morning.

Until then, however, he would keep himself busy using nature as a means to pass the time. Walking through the knoll, another deep inhalation yielded the same results as the first, and made quite qa random thought pass through the boy's mind. "Riviera, the promised lands… This place is almost to good to be true.

And so it was.

However, there were indeed imperfections that mired the landscape. Such as the person that had been following Zenith for quite some time, probably scoping him out. He was more than ready to believe tha the person following him was someone from the empire, but not a skilled warrior in the slightest. Whoever it was, he or she was too obvious in the way they were tracking him. Only an amateur would step on that tree branch, causing it to snap with a painfully loud crack. Zenith winced at the mistake, but otherwise pretended to be oblivious to the fact.

Before he knew it, the soft pitter-patter of a running approach was all too evident to Zenith's delicately trained ears. He bided his time and waited until the footsteps were almost upon his. He swiveled quickly on her heel, slashing out with his sword in a horizontal fashion. He quickly had to alter his route, as the enemy who had sneaked up on him was nothing more than a little girl. She actually held the advantage to him in that split second, using her dagger to block the expertly transitioned strike. He took stock of her as she bumped into him, her quick fingers locked onto the satchel he was wearing about his waist.

He noted that the hood covering her head effectively hid her eyes and most of her hair, but it did betray some of the fiery red strands. The clothes she wore were borderline raggedy, almost as though she had nowhere to say and no one would take a mongrel like her in. By the looks of it, she was just an average little thief. His satchel started to move away from his body, for the girl had swiftly removed the fastener and was making to run off with her haul. Zenith let her turn around before catching the little girl by her shirt. He made to lift her off the ground, but her hand with the knife in it darted dangerously towards Zenith's wrist.

Not wanted to get his wrist slit, Zenith brought his own sword and slammed the hilt of it into the little girl's weapon hand. Her fingers instinctively stopped cradling the knife that she was wielding, and at that moment she recognized her loss. However, that did not stop her from struggling in Zenith's surprisingly strong grip, nor did it do anything to release her hold on the satchel.

Zenith brought his sword hand up again, and its hilt came crashing down upon the little girl's skull this time. The blow was not hard enough for her to lose consciousness, but it definitely left a knot in its wake. It also served as a tranquilizing effect, as the girl stopped struggling while the satchel fell to the ground with a soft 'plop'. It was then Zenith relaxed his grip. The little girl would most likely be too dazed (Indeed, she stumbled to the ground) to be able to flee anywhere else. He calmly picked up the little bag, and reverted his attention to the little girl.

"You're quite daring." Zenith said simply, reattaching the small pouch to the fastener about his waist again. His sword remained unsheathed and held in his hand, a constant reminder that he held the upper hand at the moment. He looked into the little girl's eyes. Rather than being pacified by the humiliating defeat, he saw that she wanted the chance to redeem herself. He decided to humor her. Smirking, but saying nothing else, Zenith sheathed his sword and turned his back on the small child.

He her the shuffling of one quickly getting to their feet, three steps, a slight pause, and then she close the gap between them. She had retrieved her weapon and was again attacking him. He spun around for the second time, albeit rather than parry with his sword, he caught the small blade of the knife between his thumb and fore-finger of his left hand. This effectively stopped the small implement of death from burying itself into his stomach. With his right hand, his quick fingers reached into the thief's pocket and withdrew from the confines a small, perfectly cylindrical stone. The whole thing was a translucent material, although it housed something similar to a living blue flame. It was quite the breathtaking sight.

"Well now… What is this?" Zenith inquired. He flipped the little stone through his fingers, very careful not to drop int. The stone was pleasantly warm wherever it touched his skin, and the little girl softly cried "No!" and tried to retrieve it as quickly as she could. Her wary eyes flipped upwards to his hand, but… she faltered when she saw that nothing was happening. "It's quite the piece," Zenith mused, keeping it above the reach of the little girl while the blade of the knife was still tightly pinched in his other hand. "You could probably sell this for quite the sum. You would not have to resort to petty thievery."

He released the blade of the knife an instant after the pressure had stopped being applied to it. The little girl gaped at him for a moment while Zenith kept at his examination. When he was finished, he carelessly tossed the stone back to her, it landed with a quiet plop in the grass at her feet. The little girl, who had only spoken once the whole time, in the form of one whole syllable, went from disobediently quiet to stunned into silence. Her gaze went slowly to the stone, and then climbed up Zenith's body to his face. "You're… Alright?" Her voice was muck akin to a stereotypical shy little girl. It was surprisingly light, perhaps a tiny hint of reservation. It did not betray her actual personality, and was probably the source of escapes from botched jobs.

"What are you talking about? Zenith's voice was laced with annoyance. "Of course I am alright. However, that may not be the same case for you. What shall I do with you…? You did try to steal my personal belongings, after all." Suddenly, before the girl could react, Zenith's hand clasped around her wrist, and wrenched it sideways. "Perhaps I should break your arm so you can not steal anymore." It was not a question, but more of a statement of what was to come.

However, before he could act, he was disrupted by a distinct whining. It was not a human, although the noises stirred Zenith into action immediately. Rather than use the girl as a human shield, he opted to punish her later, and pushed her away. He himself then took a step backwards, dodging an arrow that blazed through the air at an uncannily fast speed.

"You have quite the reaction speed. Awesome!" A careless sounding voice came from some thirty meters away. It was quite the feat, since the arrow was going in a straight line rather than being arced. From that distance, the bowstring must have been quite difficult to pull back in order to achieve that much power. "Right, right, right. You're Zenith then, huh? Not quite the battle god I'd pictured…" The man scratched his chin, a small movement that was more difficult than not to discern from the distance they were standing. Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyhow, you probably know this song and dance. I'm a representative from the Soh---"

"OoOOooooOh, who's THAT?!" A much younger voice perked up from somewhere near the archer, perhaps behind him. Indeed, a small frame popped out from behind the older man.

"Damn it, Loki! I'm in the middle of my speech here!" A quick movement, and an audible high pitched "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!" from the smaller boy indicated that the older man smacked the boy across the head. "Jeez. Now I don't remember where I was. Thanks a lot."

"I'm sorry, Icarus, but you really didn't have to hit me like that!" The indignant voice of the little person known as Loki reacted.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Well, whatever. You, Zenith, are screwed! Two, not one, but two of the empire's most feared generals are here to take you out! And, by my logic, two-on-one in our favor isn't… uh… very favorable to you. Yeah, that's right."

"You really do have quite the way with words," Zenith called out mockingly, "but I do not see the situation as a disadvantage!" His words fell on deaf ears, though, as the two before him regressed into argument again. He heard the archer say "Get going, g'dammit," which ended their conversation.

The little boy turned towards Zenith, and with a hurried whisper that sounded like "You'd better not hit me this time," he started running towards Zenith. The little boy's legs carried him at a somewhat fast speed, but there was no visible weapon in his hands. Zenith thought that the circumstance was a bit odd, but he did nothing about them. In fact, Zenith did nothing until the little boy was almost upon him. An arrow came blazing over the little boy's head. Loki had a lot of faith in his own personal William Tell, especially since the arrow would have taken an apple off the top of the boy's head.

Zenith sidestepped, which triggered an elaborate dance between three people. The little boy, as in turned out, did not wield a weapon at all. Rather, the boy relied on his own body as his weapon. The boy swung punch after kick after punch as arrows glided through the air at breakneck speed. Each arrow, each punch, each kick sped past the place where Zenith had just been standing moments before. The Tricksters worked extremely well together. It was almost as if they had the same mind.

Strangely enough, Zenith hadn't even unsheathed his own sword yet. As a matter of fact, it would probably prove to be more of a hindrance that a help in this particular situation, as he ducked and weaved through the constant motion of his smaller enemy along with the hail of arrows provided by the distant one.

Meanwhile, the little girl who had lain forgotten was finally finding her feet. She had taken to situation. She thought the way Zenith moved was amazing at worst. He hadn't been touched yet although the attack always came within a hair's length. It seemed as though he would use no excess movements, and he that he knew exactly where and when the next attack was coming from along with where it would eventually be placed.

She looked down, realizing the stone was still on the ground. However, she wasn't the only one who noticed. The little boy glanced over and caught sight of the gleaming stone. He gasped, and on the same breath, he shouted "THE FIRE EMBLEM! IT'S HERE!" Just like that, the boy forgot his primary objective and dove for the emblem, Zenith tried to give chase, unsheathing his sword in the process after sensing the opening, but he was prevented by the archer who hadn't missed a beat. A constant stream of arrows, rapid-fired from a boy that Zenith could only semi-see, screamed through the air, each filled with the promise of death.

Zenith brought his sword around, able to concentrate fully on the arrows that were being fired at him because Loki had gone for the emblem. Zenith parried and weaved through the arrows as effortlessly as walk, dodging back and forth and back and forth, working his way towards Icarus the mystery archer. The archer then started using more tricky shots and the like, however, also being able to focus all of his skill on Zenith rather than just providing cover. Suddenly, Zenith found arrows hidden within the shadows of other arrows, arrows that seemed to twist in the air and go in an entirely different direction, and plenty of arrows coming on him at once, making dodging that much trickier. Zenith had lost his advantage, for he could not find the holes to advance any longer.

Annoyance gave way to pain. Zenith found an arrow stuck in his shoulder, falling prey to perhaps the simplest trick of all. Virtually all of the arrows fired thus far had been fired straight at Zenith, So when the man fired an arced shot, Zenith failed to notice. He cursed himself for his lack of attention and for the act of being lulled into the enemy's pace. However, the stream of arrows faltered, so Zenith pulled out the arrow and quickly whirled around.

The little girl was lying on the ground again. A spot in her forehead had split open, and blood was gushing from the wound. Loki had punched her quite hard, or so it seemed, and was holding the emblem in his hand.

"Wait, Loki! Don't pick up the emblem, you dumbass!" Icarus's voice came from closer than Zenith had expected. Icarus was hurriedly making his way closer to the boy, which meant that he was also nearing Zenith. Zenith readied his blade, preparing to strike a finishing blow while the archer was preoccupied.

Zenith never got that chance though. He found that he could no longer feel his arm, and could thus no longer control it. As much as he struggled to lift it, he could get no response. The obvious answer was that the arrow was spiked with a poison that infected very quickly. With the amount of time the arrow had been introduced to his body, not much of the poison could have gotten in, but he felt his legs numbing too. His knees buckled and he hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Damn it, Loki, hurry up and put it DOWN!" However, Loki was too busy preening over his success to heed Icarus's warning. Then everything got crazy.

The blue flame that was encased in the clear marble escaped. It engulfed the young boy's hand quickly, instantly blackening the appendage. It threatened to engulf Loki in a similar fashion, but Icarus's bow collided with the burnt limb and forced it to drop the stone. "Ah, you idiot! We have to get you outta here, and quick." Icarus shook his head, listening to the cries of pain of his comrade. "I told you to drop the emblem. We're supposed to leave it to Red and just get rid of the criminals. C'mon, let's go." With nobody to hinder their escape, the taller man picked up his tortured compatriot and made his way from the scene.


End file.
